Riding the winds of the hurricane
Knowing we’re going to lose power
Stacking the ends of loose leaf paper
Don’t know the time/ don’t know the hour
Pouring a drink, settling in this night
Toast the storm, this one’s going to be a fighter
But when all is said & done
Imagination is how I fuel my typewriter
To my beloved friends
Though we live in far off places
& may not have the honor
Of gracing each other’s faces
The sands of time are finite
& we have so many demands
On how we spend each grain
Whether I’m at sea or on dry land
Yet know, I keep you with me
Close to this weary heart
Gather in for a New Years’ toast
Opportunity for a fresh start
Come on up for a cup of coffee
I hope you’ve brought your cheery attitude
My place will be easily discovered
The one with the gentleman toasting you in the nude
Swapping Daisy Buchanan for Lady Brett
Dreams & visions traded for a martini glass
The swirls of ice resemble their hearts
The disappearing notion of the dignified class
So we raise a toast for decent luck
These three olives constitute her daily menu
Dancing off silently out onto the veranda
Subtly becoming her own performance venue
Captain Q 